The End of the Clone Wars
by Jesuslovesmarina
Summary: A story describing the events following the end of the Clone Wars TV show, with references to 'Deception', where Obi-Wan Kenobi impersonates the bounty hunter Rako Hardin; Ahsoka Tano's leaving of the Jedi Order; and in which Anakin Skywalker does NOT turn to the Dark Side, and defies the Sith. Rated T only for description of injuries. Too bad I don't own Star Wars, guys.
1. Chapter 1

The End of the Clone Wars

The call from Padmé had come that day. Just three hours earlier. He had been agonizing over this decision ever since.

They were having a baby.

He rubbed the back of his head where it ached almost constantly now. It wouldn't be long that he could stay with the Jedi anyway. He couldn't do this much longer. A decision had to be made, and he felt totally incompetent to make it.

He had been poisoned by a Durrown who attacked him during an attempt to kidnap Chancellor Palpatine. The Chancellor had been saved, but, at first unknown to Anakin, he was slowly dying from the poison injected into him through the Durrown's electrotentacles. Eventually Mace Windu, the only Jedi who had been present when Anakin had been attacked, had remembered something he read in a magazine about Durrowns and hurried to warn him.

He had not felt any symptoms then, but soon enough he began to ache all over his body and feel lightheaded frequently. And the Temple med experts said there was no cure. None of the other Jedi knew it, not even Obi-Wan, but he could die within a month or two.

The baby was due in three.

No, Padmé had not called him to tell him about the baby. He'd known about that for quite some time now. She had called to remind him that they needed to make a decision. He'd been putting it off because he didn't want to face the facts, and she knew it.

There were two options.

They could stay, or they could leave. Stay, or leave. They could attempt to fight it out for their children and the galaxy, to the bitter and mortifying end, or spend their last days together in peace on Naboo, where their child could be born and grow up close to his or her grandparents on the lush and blissful planet he and Padmé both loved.

His comlink beeped for the fourth time. The Council members wanted him down at a confidential meeting to send him and Obi-Wan to Chamino. Possibly Ahsoka as well. No wait, Ahsoka's gone.

He wanted to follow her away from the Order, yet at the same time, he wanted to stay and fight.

He grit his teeth, stopping his pacing and flopped down on his bed. There were no right answers! There were so many things the Jedi believed in that he disagreed with; he'd looked back at the ancient Jedi Code and found so many flaws; it was the only thing he'd really applied himself to studying on the rare occasion he found himself at the Temple with nothing to do. Generations of Jedi had changed the Code to mean things that were completely different from what they used to. Whole sections had been added and taken out. And Anakin believed the Order was suffering because of those changes—those compromises—they had made. Leaving would make a terrific statement about his beliefs, but not as great as the Order would need to change their ways. Staying, on the other hand, gave him a chance to throw himself into one or two final missions, possibly saving hundreds of beings before his death.

His comlink beeped again, loudly. He couldn't THINK when the thing went off every five minutes! Couldn't the Council give him some space? Without thinking, he wrenched it from his utility belt and hurled it out the open window, and it fell five stories to the ground below, landing with a smash.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Where could he be?" Obi-Wan mumbled to himself, trying not to complain aloud and get even more bad attention on Anakin than his friend already had. Their meeting had already started, and they had decided to meet out in the courtyard on this particular day, because the weather was lovely and it was rare they had a meeting that wasn't so top secret they absolutely had to hold it indoors with high security surrounding them.

"…It appears," continued Master Ki-Addi-Mundi continued his drawl, "That Master Skywalker will not be going on this mission with you, Master Kenobi. I am afraid you will have to do it on your own."

Obi-Wan grimaced and pressed the button on his comlink one last time. Surely Anakin would come through for him. He couldn't possibly be so angry about the Rako Hardin issue that he left his Master alone on an impossible solo mission, could he?

Suddenly, he heard a slight whistle beyond him as something fell through the air. The Masters all jumped as a small silver object fell through the sky and crashed to the ground in their midst, cracking open and leaving sparking wires when it hit the ground.

Master Windu's eyebrows shot up as he bent over to examine the object: a comlink. He turned to Obi-Wan. "Please don't tell me that's Skywalker's window."

Obi-Wan grimaced. "No," he replied. "That's his comlink. His window's still up on the side of the building."

The two exchanged glances and Obi-Wan sat back in his seat uncomfortably. This was inappropriate behavior, even for Anakin. He needed to speak with him, but then again—he almost didn't dare to. Anakin had been furious with him; almost never speaking to him, since Kenobi's faked death and impersonation of Rako Hardin.

Talking to his former pupil and –former—best friend—would only make matters worse.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ahsoka took a deep breath—and hacked as she inhaled the sharp fumes of exhaust and kettel grime. That was low-level Coruscant at its best, yes it was. She flopped back and leaned against the outside wall of her little shack, looking around her. Dust coated everything; it fell from all the buildings in the nine city levels above them. By level nine, everything was coated with a fuzzy layer and there was very little sunlight, but to Ahsoka, there was some comfort in the darkness. There was protection that enveloped them when they weren't exposed in the daylight, and since she could see through the dark with the Force, she was rarely afraid.

Derolf, her little boy, was napping right now, leaving her some quiet time to think and plan. It had been such an adventurous two months since she'd left the Jedi Order. So much had happened to her. She pondered regularly the possibility of going to Shili. There were friends and family there, and jobs that she could get that didn't involve tiptoeing around gangsters, thieves, and other lowlife. There was beautiful scenery on her home planet, and places for her boy to run around without danger, exploring the forests and groves of bright-colored flowers and trickling brooks.

It seemed like a much better option than staying on Coruscant, down in a shanty on level nine with meager work as an anonymous crime news reporter and writer. It seemed better than straddling three-year-old Derolf on her hip and using the Force to help her climb all nine levels to the very top of the city-planet, where she took him for short walks in the sunny nearby park every day, trying to avoid the mortified stares of wealthy mothers carrying their finely-dressed children without so much as a smudge of dirt on their pale, frowning cheeks.

But something was telling her to stay.

Either it was the fact that she couldn't bear to leave all the ones she cared about so far behind, or it was the Force warning her that things were about to happen, and she wouldn't want to miss them. There was violence in the air on Coruscant, and blood was about to be spilled. Ahsoka figured she, of all people, was in a prime spot to do some good if fighting broke out and people had been wronged, needing immediate attention. She could bandage wounds, and she could nurse the sick. She could do it for days on end without rest if need be, and how many people on Coruscant could say that, or that they'd be willing?

Anakin was right. There were things that were wrong with the Order, things that needed to change. But he hadn't gone so far as to come out and say it, let alone leave! All that made Ahsoka feel rather daring, and also made her wonder if she'd gone too far. There were disadvantages to no longer being connected to a group as powerful as the Jedi.

Just then, she heard shooting out in the streets, just down a few blocks from the shack. She went inside and tucked Derolf's blanket around him snugly, making sure he was still sleeping, and crept toward the door with her lightsaber ready.

As she opened it a crack and a small ray of faint light shone in, so did the sounds of shouting. They were coming closer. Suddenly, with a THUD! the door slammed shut and she was thrown to the floor as a huge body went flying against the outside of her shack! The flimsy boards rattled, threatening to come down under the weight. "It must be those Brokukkans who fight over on Straight Road all the time. The oldest of the bunch is over eight feet tall and heavy." Eyes wide, she tensed herself, ready for someone to come through the window or completely knock over her house. She heard yells. Someone was getting beaten up outside, someone who didn't want to lose.

Suddenly, she caught a wave of the Force, a strong one, followed by one that wavered as if from a Jedi who was just about at their limits. Gasping as she realized there was a Jedi in the fight, one of her own, she ran out of the house, locking the door behind her. The three Brokkukan thugs, one of whom must've slammed into her door, had surrounded a familiar-looking form hidden by the dark shadows of the buildings across the alley.

She almost choked as she recognized him. "Anakin?"

Sneaking around behind, she watched him fight, judging the actions closely. It seemed as if Anakin was trying to muster the Force, but couldn't seem to gather enough around him. Of all the things Anakin had ever had difficulty doing, commanding the Force was definitely not one of them. Something was wrong.

One thug broke off a piece of iron rodding from beneath the crumbling concrete wall to his left. Like a stick of candy, he broke in two more pieces and held it over his head. Anakin held up his lightsaber, but something was wrong with him and Ahsoka couldn't place a finger on what it was. The thug attacked while his partners tried to hold Anakin down. The Jedi struggled feebly with them, deflecting blows while trying to wrench his way out of the meaty fists, but one arm grabbed his lightsaber handle and threw it on the ground, pulling Anakin's arms behind him roughly.

It clicked finally on her that Anakin needed help. She ran forward, lightsaber outstretched, just as the thug with the iron rodding swung his weapon upward, trying to smack the Jedi in the face. Her shoto reached it and sliced it in half, just in time.

She swung her full-length saber toward him, causing him to stumble back, moaning over the burn on his hand. His partners ran, heavy feet pounding on down the street, before she could get more than a slash at them.

Anakin picked himself up off the ground slowly. "Snips?" he asked in disbelief.

Walking toward her, he surprised her by wrappings his arms around her tightly. He felt strange and bony to her as she gripped his waist as though she'd never let go. What a long time it seemed since they had seen each other!

"Master—" she started, then looked up at his flaming blue eyes. "Are you all right?"

Anakin ducked his head, avoiding the question. "I was looking for you, Ahsoka."

She raised an eyebrow and used the Force to draw half of the iron rodding he'd almost been hit with into her hand. "Looks like you found some other guys first."

Anakin ran his hand through his hair, embarrassed. "Yeah. So, Padmé and I were just wondering if you'd be interested in joining us in a—hey, is there someplace we could go to talk?"

Ahsoka, with eyebrows still raised, took a moment to respond. "—Oh, yeah!" she exclaimed cheerfully, tossing the rodding aside and turning toward her shack on the other side of the street. "We can go in my house. It's right over there."

She immediately saw Anakin's reserve. "That's your house?"

Pressing her lips together, she gave him a jaunty smile. "Yes, Master, that's my house; and don't you dare call it a shack." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on!"

They crossed the street together and Anakin bent down to fit inside her doorway—in fact, they both did. Ahsoka knew well that Anakin would be shocked at such apparent poverty, but in reality, she really didn't mind. Somehow, she must let him understand that a tiny house with no furnishings was little different from a big house that was watertight and filled with expensive treasures—at least to her.

Anakin looked around him with a numb surprise on his face as he sat on the mattress she gestured to. Then his eyes settled on Derolf's sleeping form in the corner. "Who's that?" came the question she was waiting for.

"That," she explained, settling down next to her old Master, a smile playing on her lips, "is my baby. I adopted him. His name is Derolf."

She turned to watch Anakin's reaction.

It seemed to take a long time as his face slowly processed what she'd told him, and Ahsoka began to worry more. He was moving so slowly, had seemed so weak when fighting the Brokkukans outside. She shuddered to think of what would have happened if the bigger one had hit him with the rodding—it could have been a killing blow. She had missed her Master more than she'd realized. It was hard, having so few friends, in the outside world she now lived in.

Finally, gazing in Derolf's direction, Anakin spoke.

"—How? How—why did you adopt a little boy? You're only seventeen, Ahsoka!" His voice was too quiet.

She gave her baby a loving look. "It's a long story. You'd better tell me yours first."

Anakin shifted, as if uncomfortable with what he had to say. "Well," he began, then stopped, hesitant.

Ahsoka turned her head to one side. "You could start by telling me how you managed to get beat up by three stupid-looking hunks of drac."

"Ahsoka," he groaned. "The reason why I'm here is because—well, I'm planning to leave the Jedi Order."

She felt her eyes get wide. "Do NOT tell me you're doing it just because I did," she demanded.

"No, no, no," Anakin protested, "Some reasons are the same, and some are completely different. I can explain!" He looked almost panicky; such a strange expression for him that Ahsoka was alarmed.

She held up a hand. "Hey, calm down! We've got plenty of time!"

"No, we don't!" Anakin stammered. "You don't understand—we're running out of time to do anything! We—"

"Anakin!" Ahsoka whispered fiercely. "Just tell me what's wrong!" Her voice grew soft. "It's all right. I've helped you before, haven't I? I can do it again!"

Anakin calmed down, but his eyes were sad as they met hers. "No, you can't."

"Why?" she asked quietly.

"When Obi-Wan was being Rako Hardin, there was that attack on the Chancellor?"

She nodded.

"There was a Durrown there, one of the bounty hunters, and he zapped me with his tentacles. Apparently Durrowns are poisonous; we didn't realize it at first. And there's no cure."

Her eyes grew wide with horror. "Anakin? What does that mean?"

His mouth was twisted when he finally met her gaze. "It means I'm gonna die. I've got about two months. That's all."

"Anakin!"

She practically flew at him without even thinking, locking her arms around him. He didn't even respond, just returned her grip with his own shaky one. Her tears dripped onto his robe and she didn't care. How could she miss him this much, while he was still right there with her?

"We're—we're leaving—to go to Naboo, 'Soka. Me and Padmé, and possibly some others. The Republic is falling apart and we don't want to be stuck in it when it falls. Padmé and I were—were married—a couple years ago. She's going to have a baby. I want to live to see that baby, and I want it and Padmé to be safe. That's why we're leaving."

He seemed to jerk into response then, and began stroking her back comfortingly. "We want you to go with us," he announced. "If you can. And the kid, too, of course."

She turned away sadly, staring at Derolf's little face, tucked under the blanket. It was just too much to comprehend. Anakin was dying; he had only a few months to live. He and Senator Amidala were married and having a baby soon. And the Republic was falling, so they were all moving to Naboo and wanted her to go with them?

"What did you say again?" she finally blurted out, sniffling and wiping her eyes rapidly. "I can't remember it all!"

Anakin rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry. I should have told you all of this before."

"You're right. You should've. Oh, Master, you can't just die! There's got to be a way!"

He didn't say anything, just held her more tightly.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"You seem exceptionally quiet today, my boy," Chancellor Palpatine addressed Anakin as a group of Senators left his office. Strangely, the Chancellor had requested Anakin specifically to act as security for the meeting, rather than the conventional clone troopers or royal guards.

Anakin sighed. "Yes, Your Excellency. I'm not sure why you called me in here today, but I'm glad you did. I have some news for you."

"I could sense something was troubling you," Palpatine said slowly, concentrating on placing some papers in a drawer as he spoke. "I wanted to talk. As I take it, you do as well?"

Anakin was a little confused at the word, 'sense'; it sounded a bit Jedi-ish for the Chancellor; but he answered the question. "Yes. I'm afraid that some things have forced me to leave the Jedi Order. I will be gone next week, and I don't expect to return." He watched Palpatine's face.

"It is indeed unfortunate," Palpatine responded, slowly and articulately, "that you plan to leave. The Jedi Order is indeed becoming more and more a controversial subject. I can't say that I blame you. Your Master; surely he has not been told yet?"

Anakin shook his head, wondering why that would be a problem, but relieved that the Chancellor felt the same way. If Palpatine also believed that Obi-Wan should not be told, then how could it be all that wrong to keep it secret?

"Good," Palpatine continued. "He would be little more than a heartbreak and an interference to you at this point, wouldn't he?"

Anakin could only nod. As much as he tried to leave his Master out of this, it wasn't as easy as it had at first seemed.

"But tell me," Palpatine went on, "what other reasons do you have? Such a radical move on your part makes me concerned for your welfare. You have never been on your own outside of the Jedi. How will you make a living? Will you and I still be able to remain friends?"

Anakin almost smiled at Palpatine's concern. How was he to explain that it was completely futile?

"I'm sorry, Your Excellency. It's—it's not like that at all. I'm not leaving because of the Jedi's beliefs—"

"Are you sure?" Palpatine suddenly interrupted, turning to him with eyebrows raised.

Anakin's forehead wrinkled. "I—I think so."

Palpatine returned to sorting papers as Anakin nervously drummed his fingers on the edge of the desk.

"You've been—a good friend to me, Your Excellency, I and didn't want to have to tell you this, but I suppose I ought to," Anakin said finally. Palpatine stopped to listen.

"I was recently attacked by a Durrown, a bounty hunter, during a—a mission some time ago." He didn't want to draw the connection to Palpatine's near-kidnapping during the same event. The good-hearted man might feel that he was to blame. "The Temple med experts have given me several months to live."

Palpatine started up, shocked. "A—Durrown!" he stammered, obviously recognizing the species. "Oh, my boy—I am so glad you came and talked to me!" he took Anakin's shoulders in his hands, his face filled with emotion. "You mean to say you have given up on life just because current medical practice has no obvious solutions? What were those Jedi meds ever thinking!?"

Anakin swallowed hard and shook his head, unsure of what the Chancellor was talking about. "Your Excellency, please—"

"Anakin, you don't understand!" he continued excitedly. "My medical research program, enhanced by some personal insights I have been privileged to offer, developed a cure specifically for Durrown poison only several weeks ago! It is a rather unpleasant process; at least it has been with the last several test subjects; but so far it has already saved several lives. It could absolutely save yours!"

Anakin's head spun and he collapsed into the chair. "What?" he said in disbelief.

Palpatine was shaking his head. "Oh, Anakin, how could you put your life in the hands of the Jedi yet again? You know their solutions care more about maintaining the system than on the people themselves!"

Anakin still found himself speechless.

Palpatine stood. "Quickly, my boy, come with me. We can arrange a meeting with my researchers at once!"

He looked about ready to dash out the door. Anakin, feeling totally overwhelmed, held up a hand. "Wait, wait, Chancellor; are you saying that you HAVE the cure for Durrown poison two floors below us?!"

Smiling from ear to ear, the Chancellor looked directly in his eyes. "Yes, Anakin. Oh, and by the way, I have a proposition for you, seeing that you won't be leaving the Jedi Order just yet," he grabbed Anakin's arm, moving him out of the chair and across the office in his excitement. "I have been doing some research on the history of the Jedi Code—you see I have many scientific and historical hobbies—and I have found many of the same errors you have." Palpatine quickly ushered him out of the office and into the turbolift as he spoke.

"Wait—I talked to you about my research on the Jedi Code?"

"Yes, yes, of course, my boy! I don't recall the exact date, but you were the one who got me interested in the subject. The errors and additives have simply botched the entire document! I am shocked that you have been the first to discover them! It just goes to show what a vital role you play in the Force-Faith community, and I congratulate you for it most heartily."

Anakin started to say something, but Palpatine interrupted again as they plunged down the turbolift. Anakin had to grab onto the railing to stay upright—the poison's effects threw off his balance in these confounded turbolifts. Palpatine completely ignored any sign of his weakness.

"Anyway," he rattled on, "I have been thinking about the strength of the Order overall and I wanted to do something to try to increase its accountability to the rest of the citizens. Coming into the Order at an older age, as you did, lends itself to make you almost like one of those citizens, and you have brought accountability already. I would like to see the Order redefined and opened up to the input of citizens, besides having the Code rewritten to be more all-inclusive. You come to my mind as the most obvious choice of an individual who could take charge of the program to make public the doings of the Jedi. I will let you know right now…" he gave him a proud smile as they exited the turbolift, "that I am about to appoint you as my personal representative on the Jedi Council, if you agree."

"I—I don't know that I heard you correctly…"

"Of course you did, Anakin! It's a fantastic opportunity! And the more influence you have over the Council's decisions—just think, all the new ideas you've shared with me over the years could now become part of the actual system! The alternative uses of the Force that have so often been shrouded in mystery and disgrace, such as the influence of Sith teachings, could be brought new meaning, the meanings you've discovered!"

"Wait, what?"

"And best of all, I would ensure you were no longer discriminated against if you chose to make your marriage public at last. It would be—"

Anakin jumped forward at that. "Whoa, whoa, Chancellor, I KNOW I didn't tell you about that one! How in the galaxy did you find out that we were—"

His voice trailed off when he saw how surprised Palpatine looked at his outburst. "Oh, my. Anakin, I was sure we had discussed the matter before! I am so sorry if I have just trod on your privacy—I've known for so long, I assumed I'd heard it from you. It was probably just a bit of Nubian gossip I picked up some time ago while visiting my homeworld." He cocked an eyebrow worriedly. "It is accurate, is it not—?"

Anakin rubbed his eyes, trying to will away the splitting headache and process everything the Chancellor was telling him. "Well, yes, I suppose it is. I'm sorry, Your Excellency, you just surprised me, that's all."

"Well, good that we have that cleared up now." Palpatine smiled. They walked down the hall and entered the door to the Republic's medical research office, with Anakin still trying to remember everything that was said. It was normally hard to keep up with the Chancellor's occasional bouts of rambling, let alone now that he felt so disoriented from the poison.

He knew a few research projects were actually performed at the facility, although its main purpose was to regulate the ethical standards of other scientific universities across the galaxy. "I do hate having conflicts with my closest friends," Palpatine continued rambling. "The Senate is full of arguing with political colleagues, but I enjoy knowing that there are some who share my opinions without a doubt."

Before Anakin could respond, Palpatine was engaged in conversation with a Jimone native, who was sitting at the desk. The Jimone looked gruff, with his long nails so long they almost crossed each other over the desk and long facial hair that nearly covered his face. His piercing orange eyes caught Anakin's, and some flicker of remembrance crossed the Jedi's mind. He seemed familiar, but he couldn't remember where he would have seen him before. Scowling, the Jimone, whose name was Firor according to the label sitting on his desk, turned back toward Palpatine and continued talking in his native language.

"Excellent!" Palpatine exclaimed in a moment. "Anakin, my researchers can treat you as early as tomorrow morning!"

"Wow," was all Anakin could choke out. Palpatine headed for a back door and directed him into a dimly-lit lab with several hospital cots and quite a few pieces of equipment. The Chancellor continued to lead him through until they came to a large row of shelves that ran along the back wall of the lab. He pulled a small bottle of a gold-colored substance off of the shelf. "This is what they must inject into you to stop the poison, Anakin," he said gravely. "It is not an easy experience. If they injected the entire bottle at once, it would probably kill you, so they do it a little at a time. The reaction between the poison and antidote is very violent, and it will be extremely painful. But," he shrugged, "as there is no alternative…"

"Chancellor Palpatine," Anakin stammered, as the truth of this gift finally sunk in, "How can I thank you for this? You just saved my life!"

Palpatine laughed. "No need to thank me, my boy. Although," his eyes sparkled with amusement, "I would be honored if you would agree to be my representative, as we discussed earlier. Only think of the good we could accomplish together!"

Anakin laughed shortly, trying to even remember what it was Palpatine had said. He'd rattled off about so many things in a short elevator ride it was hard to even think—

"Come now, Anakin," the Chancellor said in a fatherly tone, "I must make my reports tonight. There's no way you could go wrong; and I'm—" he squinted at his watch, "Oh, dear, I'm late for a meeting. Can I write you down as a yes?"

Anakin laughed again, feeling overwhelmed. "I suppose—"

"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "The office will contact you tomorrow about treatment. I will speak with you shortly, Master Skywalker."

He rushed out, leaving Anakin to try and remember why he was calling him 'Master'.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the hugely long delay! More is coming, I promise!**

Chapter 5

_He had gone to sleep knowing there was hope for both of them. As they lay together, she was soon to give birth to a new creature, and he would live to take care of them for the rest of their lives. _

_Then a second vision flashed before his eyes, one very different from the first, superficial one. _

_Palpatine was not who he seemed. _

_Then the poison took him. _

_The child, while simply being born, took Padmé as well._

_And they left their baby behind, alone. _

_He'd told Obi-Wan to leave and so now he was gone. _

_Palpatine took the child since there was no one else, placing the delicate creature into the crook of his arm. Then he removed his ornate Senatorial hood, revealing an ugly, scarred, and contorted face, and hissed at the baby, who looked like a tiny light next to a huge pool of darkness. Amidst the baby's cries, Palpatine muttered words to it that were at first indistinguishable, then became clearer as he continued to speak. _

"_I killed the father with the Force. I killed the mother with the father; and _you_ will be my new apprentice." The word _apprentice_ echoed over and over again, louder in his ears until it was roaring…_

Anakin cried out as though he'd been struck, starting up to find himself in bed. He'd been dreaming, and there was Padmé sleeping beside him, just as she had been before. Trembling, he laid a hand on her belly where the child slept also, knowing that he or she was safe there, too.

A dark presence seemed to be real in the room. Could it really have been Palpatine he'd seen in his dream, standing over their child? Palpatine, who had been his friend and Padmé's loyal supporter, ever since they'd known him? Who had now found the solution to save his very life?

He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, but it only hurt worse than ever. A little dizzily, he made his way out onto the balcony of their apartment and looked out over the cityscape, busy with lights and flashes as though it never would sleep. He closed his eyes and tried as hard as he could to pray, but it was as though it would not come.

"_Please,"_ he said in his mind, over and over again, _"Please, what do I do?!" _

All of a sudden, he felt a warmth come over him from the inside, so powerful he fell on his knees beside the balcony railing. It was as though the most powerful form of love had just invaded him, comforting him perfectly and causing every confusing thought to come to a standstill.

He almost heard the voice, _"I am with you…" _

And then his mind had an instant flashback to his conversation with Palpatine the day before.

He saw the man speaking to him as they headed down the turbolift, repeating the same phrase multiple times: _"…the influence of Sith teachings could be brought new meaning…"_

It repeated in Anakin's mind over and over, louder and louder, until suddenly it sunk in and he jumped to his feet, completely aghast. "Palpatine?!" he almost said out loud. Fear came over him as quickly as the wonderful sensation he'd just felt, snaking its icy fingers along his spine. He whirled around to make sure Padmé was still sleeping soundly. She was.

He knew he had to do something, crazy as it was. Running over to the power unit in the wall just outside their bedroom, he quickly unplugged R2-D2 and motioned to the little droid to follow him.

Artoo let out a soft whistle of confusion.

"It's all right, Artoo," he whispered to his friend. "We've got a little mission ahead of us."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

At the beginning of the war, Anakin had never expected he'd be breaking into a Pro-Republic Senator's office. Many things had changed, and if his suspicions were correct, a lot more was about to.

He knew he was crazy to suspect Palpatine, let alone take the risk of spying on him, but he had to know the meaning of his dream, no matter what the cost. There was just too much danger if the dream turned out to be a premonition; he was willing to risk anything to make sure it wasn't.

He carefully checked to make sure Artoo's security systems were set at maximum level before motioning to him to access the computer panel. Artoo beeped quietly, indicating that he had disabled all security in Palpatine's office. Anakin typed in a few code words, and the door slid open, revealing the room he'd been in only hours earlier, except that it was now empty, dark, and eerily quiet.

Lightsaber held ready, just in case, he moved slowly across the room and over to the huge desk, going straight toward the locked drawers on the left center.

Halfway there, he stopped, sensing through the Force that his entry had been far too easy. He had disabled the security; but even disabling it could have triggered a silent alarm of some kind. Glancing furtively back into the hallway, to make sure no one or nothing was approaching, he decided to risk moving forward, reaching up to his hood to make sure his face remained well-covered. The last thing he needed now was an accusation of conspiracy.

Artoo signaled him with a single red light that he would keep watch. Nodding to the droid, he turned and went back to the desk, placing his flesh hand over the keyhole. Concentrating with the Force, he turned the gears internally and opened the old-fashioned lock to reveal the contents of the drawer. His heart sank at what he saw, venomously sitting on top of everything else.

The elegant hilt of a gold-coated lightsaber, looking as though it had recently been primed and polished for use. Anakin almost didn't want to touch it. Even so, he had to see whatever else was in that drawer. He picked it up with his gloved prosthetic hand to avoid leaving fingerprints behind and carefully rummaged through the rest of the drawer with the other.

He also found a book, something about the stone-black cover surrounding its thick and well-worn insides seeming to speak through the Force of evil itself—although honestly, if he was going to be that way with himself, he could not possibly imagine any legitimately evil intentions in the Chancellor he'd known since childhood. All his suspicions had to go on was the dream—and the determination to leave no stone unturned in protecting his wife and unborn child. If someone was trying to frame the Chancellor, he would get to the bottom of that, too.

Determinedly, he set the lightsaber back down the way he'd found it and started briefly rummaging through the book, squinting to scan the general contents as best he could in the darkness.

It didn't take him five minutes to slam it shut again, setting it back in the drawer with a sick feeling in his stomach. The wording of the book had startled him in more than that it spoke of perverted forms of evil and glorified them. It also took great pains to glorify and flatter the reader, proclaiming the general goodness of beings everywhere and the triviality of their mistakes, while ironically calling for murderous revenge on every so-called enemy of the writer (whoever he or she may have been).

Now, it was the irony of that flattery that disturbed him. Palpatine, though Anakin had not for a second realized it in the past, spoke in nearly the exact same way. Trembling now as he sat back on his heels, unable to take his eyes from the drawer, he reconsidered why he valued Palpatine as a friend. To be sure, he was loyal and encouraging. But his encouragement had rarely been constructive. It had at times appeared so, such as when he had recommended that Obi-Wan not be told about his illness.

In reality, when Anakin was with Palpatine, it was as if, to the older man, he could do no wrong. He always had pity when Anakin had a complaint, never a scolding for his own sometimes shameful behavior. Opposite of Obi-Wan, his other best friend, Palpatine had criticized him far too _little_!

But could that really be evidence for him being a _Sith Lord_? Such an idea wasn't only preposterous, it was impossible!

_Palpatine's just fallen into some bad reading. Who can blame him? _

He was an intelligent man; perhaps a bit too intelligent, but even Anakin had read things he'd later regretted. About the lightsaber, though—no other way around it, it must be a trap for the Chancellor. Some Sith out there could have sent him the dream, too, again making it appear that Palpatine was the one to blame. All the Jedi knew by now that there was still a Sith Master out there somewhere, and this must be part of an elaborate plot to draw attention away from the real culprit.

One thing still bothered and confused him, though. Why had the Sith, whoever he was, targeted _him_? Palpatine, yes. He was the Chancellor, leader of the whole galaxy. Bring him down, you brought everyone else down with him. But Anakin was not exactly one of the Jedi most likely to turn in an accusation on the Chancellor! It was widely known that they had been close for many years.

His head spun with all of his new knowledge. His next move was a bit of a puzzle to him. Who did he report this to? Certainly not a member of the Senate; they would pick out the bits of evidence they wanted to hear, and likely move to support a very different perspective than his own. Not Palpatine, much as he would like to, he couldn't trust him with everything just yet, especially if the black book _did_ turn out to be his.

Not Obi-Wan.

Not the entire Council. Recipe for disaster, right there.

He needed a Jedi. Someone who could be trusted to keep quiet, but remain honest and fair. One name came to the forefront of his mind: Mace Windu. Not that Anakin hadn't trusted him before he'd helped him find out he was dying in the first place. But now, he felt that they had a mutual connection that had been greatly increased from before. Windu would be the one to tell. He'd have a wise suggestion for their next move, and be ready to help Anakin make it, too.

With that final conclusion to his thoughts, he stood up, shutting the drawer and relocking it with the Force once again. He turned to Artoo, about to signal him to leave immediately, when suddenly three impossibly bright lights flashed in his face.

Not startled for a moment, Anakin burst into action with the Force, and although the light had already given away his identity, he thrust the three—guards, he assumed—flying against the wall in all different directions, making his run for the door. It shut in front of him, locking him away from Artoo, who was still outside to avoid being seen.

Still blinded by the flash of light, Anakin groped forward with the Force and just missed stopping a guard before the humanoid jumped on top of him, whacking him across the face with something hard…and somewhat sharp.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Padmé Amidala was beginning to wonder if she should continue to trust Chancellor Palpatine.

She had been standing atop her Senatorial platform for an hour now, trying to get a word in edgewise with him when the entire address had been assigned originally to HER. And at six months pregnant, she didn't care to stay on her feet that long only to be denied the speaking time that was rightfully hers.

That, and she wasn't feeling particularly trusting at this stage. She shook her head as he rambled off again about something to do with the Trade Federation, which no longer had hardly anything to do with the war, wondering if it was just her overprotective mothering instincts starting to kick in or if there was actually something about the man gone wrong.

She knew Anakin certainly trusted him.

But she was worried about Anakin, too. Her husband had told her the good news—that the Chancellor had found a cure for his illness and soon everything would be fine—but she was still concerned. She was used to Anakin and his way of averting danger to his life at the last minute, but—

Palpatine continued to talk, nonsensical items that weren't on the bill or even related, delaying the Senate's action even more. Padmé faced him, feeling her normally calm face starting to pucker up with fury. SHE was supposed to be doing the talking!

Suddenly she caught his eye. The Chancellor didn't miss a single word of his rambling speech, but she clearly saw him register her presence. Instead of ignoring her like before, his dark eyes narrowed at her and she saw his lips turn up slightly in displeasure before turning away, his expression calm as ever.

She gasped and instinctively placed a hand on her belly, forgetting that she was hiding her pregnancy. He was purposely cutting her out! Palpatine may have been her husband's savior, but he was up to something in the political realm, and whatever it was, the outcome would be for evil.

Saché, her handmaiden, gave her a concerned stare. "Are you all right, M'lady?"

Distracted, she quickly glanced over at Saché, then back to Palpatine, who continued as if nothing had interrupted. "I'm fine, Saché. But I need to sit down for a bit. I can't keep trying to get his attention like this."

Her handmaiden pushed her chair under her and Padmé sat down a bit more heavily than she'd meant to.

"Saché, call my room for me, will you?" she asked. "Ask Yané if Miss Tano ever came by like she said she would."

She nodded obediently, taking the comlink and turning to leave the Senate chamber to make the call.

Padmé sighed, glancing at the time showing on the panel her pod showed at the top. Only 11:00. How could time move so slowly? She hoped Anakin was doing all right—he was weakening fast and yet he'd worked so hard lately. This morning he'd left so early she didn't even hear him and wake up. She had no idea where he'd gone today.

A minute later Saché returned with the comlink in hand. "M'lady, Yané said Miss Tano did stop by with her son, but she didn't stay. She asked if the handmaidens would look after Derolf for a bit and ran off like something was wrong!"

Padmé swallowed her alarm. "Well, that's not a particularly good sign," she replied, trying to keep a clear head and not let her concern overwhelm her. "Call Anak—Master Skywalker—and see if he knows where she is. If we have her child, we need to know."

"Yes, M'lady," Saché replied, leaving a second time.

Padmé watched Palpatine like a hawk while she was gone, trying to illicit some other reaction from him as he spoke, drowning out not only the remainder of HER speaking time but also two other senators'—both of them sympathizers with the Jedi. She narrowed her eyes at him. Somebody was due for a talking to.

Saché returned yet again, her face carrying more bad news. "Master Skywalker did not answer my call, M'lady. I left him note that you wanted him to respond when he could."

"Thank you, Saché," Padmé replied wearily. She decided she'd try calling him again during lunch.


	8. Chapter 8

Alright guys, you ask for Ahsoka, you get Ahsoka! I know everyone wants Obi-Wan, but not yet. Have patience, as he would say. Muahahah. And keep in mind, Anakin isn't exactly saved YET…

Enjoy! ~JLM

Chapter 8

Ahsoka flattened herself against the wall, gasping silently for breath and not daring to look around the corner.

"_How'd I get myself into this mess?!" _she groaned inwardly. Twice now, TWICE, she was on the run. For the same crime—killing clone troopers.

Except this time—she actually had killed one.

"_Go interview one of the Jedi, they said. You'll get a nice bonus, they said. Well, in all honesty they couldn't have predicted THIS!" _

Her wheezy breath caught in her throat as a helmeted figure appeared off to the side. In two seconds, he would spot her. Desperately, she extended a hand and caused a Force-interference to echo off the surrounding walls, creating a BOOM in the opposite direction.

Helmet-man whirled around—and looked straight at her.

"_Crap, he's well trained." _

Spinning, she kicked the huge blaster that was in his hand and it went flying through the air, landing his partner, a Royal Trooper, square in the face as he came up behind him. Neither of her pursuers was particularly fazed.

Ahsoka whipped out her shoto, having lost her lightsaber in her first tangle with the clone who was attacking General Krell. Jedi and clones against each other now? It was too much to believe! Why?

The Royal trooper opened fire at her and she deflected every bolt. Sensing someone behind her, she leapt up over the second trooper and continued to deflect, but the fire was now coming from all three and getting harder to keep up with. She couldn't stay in one place much longer.

Time to start running again. Boy, wasn't this fun. At least Derolf was with Padmé and none of the Republic agents now chasing her knew he existed.

"What're ya trying to do?!" she spat out between breaths, addressing helmet-guy. "I thought I was supposed to get a fair trial in the Republic! You know how it went for me last time—this is another mistake, I swear!"

The helmet moved as if whoever was in it was tossing his head in frustration. "Oh, she talks," he barked in a gruff voice, heavily accented. "But this time, she dies!" He opened fire again and Ahsoka's eyes flew open. There would be no trial this time.

She took off running as fast as the Force would carry her. Over buildings, across antigrav highways, leaping over rows of cars and speeders and sleds, just trying to evade them as swarms of troopers suddenly started appearing on all sides of her. She ducked down a sewer vent when she thought no one was looking, but apparently someone was. Which meant he radioed all the others. Deeper and deeper into the sewer she ran, diving down a waterfall of filth and trying to avoid a shudder and the instinct to stop and shake the scum from her head-tails.

In desperation she tried opening her eyes underneath, but the liquid stung so badly it took her breath away and she couldn't see anything anyway. Surfacing with a gasp and frantically reaching out with the Force to ensure no one was close by yet, she suddenly remembered that there were notorious gangs that wandered the sewers consistently. Run into one of them—and both they and she would be in even worse trouble.

She couldn't go back to Padmé's. Or to the Temple, although she needed to warn the Jedi of the clone's attack—General Krell's memory might not be exact enough to give them what they needed to know. He'd been unconscious most of the time.

Ahsoka choked back an unbidden sob. She couldn't go anywhere—all of her friends would be put in danger if she even went near them. And everyone else was now her enemy.

Taking a deep breath, despite the arid fumes, she told herself that the single tear rolling out of her left eye was only from the puke she'd opened her eyes in, not from the horrid ghost of loneliness that seemed to threateningly cloak her.

Pounding started just over her head and there was a grate on the ceiling, quite close. She knew the clones had heat sensors and knew exactly where she was now. Taking a deep breath, she dove under the filthy river and swam with her eyes closed, trying to use the Force to know where she was at.

"_Turn up ahead. Okay, got that. Slimy thing up ahead. Too bad, already—bleahgh! Don't want to know what that actually was! Warning—warning about what? What could possibly be worse than—"_

Lungs bursting for air, she surfaced despite the warnings and almost blacked out as a huge object came smashing down on top of her head. Choking back the mouthful of something that would probably kill her later, she came up, sputtering, and grabbed flailingly onto a concrete beam above her.

She tried to look up and see what had hit her, but only seeing stars, she listened instead.

"Oh, sorry," a young man's voice addressed her. "I thought you were the Parasite."

Ahsoka still gagged. "What?" she managed to protest.

"The Parasite," he repeated, sounding confused as to who she was. "You'd better get out of there, it—"

"Working on it!" she shouted, her patience on its very last drop at this point. Despite feeling totally unbalanced and still unable to see much more than a couple of lights in between the black, she used the Force to heave herself up and flip up on top of the beam, where she wobbled to balance even though it was relatively wide.

She heard blaster fire, and, thinking first that it was the clones, she reached for the man and shoved at him, screaming. "Get out of here—they're coming for me!"

"What are you doing!?" he screamed back, gripping her shoulders to keep from falling off the beam.

Vaguely her vision finally made out the blaster that was in his hand, and she realized he'd been the one shooting. At a huge, slippery creature reaching up out of the river—

"I touched it," she realized with horror. She reached up as the man flinched and gave him a firm stand on the beam. "Keep goin'. If there's clones, don't tell them you saw me. Or you might die."

He paused his shooting just long enough to give her a bewildered stare as she leaped off again, onto the platform beside the river and leapt through another grating. From behind, she could hear the huge creature's screams as the man tried to kill it before it killed him. She silently said a prayer for him, since he'd been kind of nice except for hitting her in the head.

Reaching an empty concrete room used to store mechanical supplies for maintaining the sewer systems, she finally crawled to a stop and rested for a second. What a horrible day it had been! She let her head rest on her knees, pulling them up to her chest and trying unsuccessfully not to cry. Maybe—just maybe—they wouldn't find her for a couple more minutes and she could stay here and get her breath.

"_Please don't cry—please don't cry—" _it was so unfitting for a Jedi! But she couldn't stop herself. Thinking about all the ways she could possibly get out of this mess, all she could think of was one person. The same person who had saved her last time, and would stop at nothing to protect her.

"_Anakin,"_ she whispered through the Force, _"Anakin, please. I need your help!" _


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Anakin woke up in a rather unpleasant manner. Strapped to a metalloid pallet, unable to move, hot white pain coming from somewhere he couldn't determine, coursing through his whole body. All he could see was white light and, unable to think, he couldn't so much as hold back a scream.

Just when he thought it wasn't going to end, it did. Partially. He still had light in his face and a sore spot on his neck that burned as if it were infected. Apparently that had been the source of the initial pain. He gasped for breath, willing his mind to focus now that it was over. And he felt like he was going to be sick.

He'd been tortured before. But this was different. Nobody knew where he was this time. HE didn't even know where he was. He should've woken Padmé before he left…

A whining sound came from behind him as some hydraulic equipment was moved, retracted from him. Anakin squinted, trying to make out anything beyond the light in his face, but it was impossible, so he attempted to reach out with the Force. What he felt made him instantly retract in revulsion.

Darkness choked the area around him, something evil and unknown. Only a tiny bubble around him was safe, and even through that, sustained by his own existence, was being crowded and choked by the black power all around.

Something scratched the table on his right, just under his arm. Startled, he whipped his head around, trying to see what it was.

A long, dirty fingernail came into view, and then three more. Anakin racked his pained head as to where he'd seen those before. Then the face appeared before his eyes, looking down at him with disgust visible behind the thick hair. The Jimone. Firor, from Palpatine's lab.

Anakin struggled to clear his throat. He had to step out—say _something_. "I knew it was you," he pretended, his voice coming out all gravelly.

Firor smirked, giving him an 'unintentional' smack to the face as he reached up to tangle with some wires attached to the pallet he was strapped to. Anakin fought back anger. Who did this creature think he was? And to think he was supposed to work for Palpatine! What on earth was going on?

"And how was your experience, Anakin?"

His heart caught in his throat. That was a familiar voice. Not a familiar tone, however.

"Palpatine, what is going on?" he growled at the man through grit teeth.

"A very grave matter, Anakin; I'm afraid a matter which deserves both of our full attention."

Anakin squinted through the light, but it was simply too bright for his eyes to adjust to it. He couldn't see Palpatine at all.

"Oh, do turn off that hideous light, Firor," Palpatine's voice spoke again, as if he'd just thought of it. If Anakin hadn't been squinting he would've rolled his eyes. The light shut off with a bang and he blinked for twenty seconds or so before he could see anything.

"Undo the bonds as well!" Palpatine's voice exclaimed impatiently. "The man may start to think you tied him up purposely!"

"_Huh?"_ He felt the bonds that secured him to the pallet unlatch, and, hesitantly, he brought himself to sit up and take a look around. To his surprise, they were back in the same laboratory Palpatine had taken him into the day before. The man himself was standing a few meters away, calmly looking on.

Anakin forced himself to stay relatively calm. "_What_," he repeated, though he felt his voice starting to get louder, "_is going on_?!"

Palpatine held up his hands in defense. "You don't have to be upset with me, my boy; I was only doing what I thought best in the trying circumstances."

"What, torturing me?" Anakin exploded, not sure if he should try to get to his feet just yet. He swung his legs over the side of the pallet, aching all over his body.

"Certainly not!" Palpatine exclaimed, shocked. "Firor, bring me the bottle—it was only this, Anakin," he held up the same bottle of gold-colored liquid he'd seen yesterday. The cure for Durrown poison. "We injected you with the first dose of it while you were asleep—I do apologize for not giving you an advance warning."

"You forget why I was asleep," Anakin narrowed his eyes at him. "Your guards, I'm assuming, were the ones to knock me unconscious last night. And it was—" he reached up, remembering something slicing into his skin, and touched the right of his forehead where it stung from a deep gash, which had apparently been bandaged while he was out.

Palpatine frowned. "You had broken into my office," he reminded him. "Which is perfectly excusable, but you understand my guards deemed the situation much more seriously. I do apologize, but frankly it was your own—"

"You had Sith artifacts in your desk!" Anakin exclaimed. "Tell me, Palpatine, were those yours?" It was the first time he could recall addressing the Chancellor by his first name alone. This time he was pleading with _him_, a friend to a friend, praying so hard he'd been wrong in his judgment of him.

Palpatine's face changed for a moment, as he carefully considered what to say next. Anakin waited, then decided to stand up. His legs wobbled and he went a successful couple of steps away from the pallet, but then his stomach suddenly turned and he bent over double.

Seeing it, Palpatine hurriedly snapped out of his reverie and grabbed a bucket sitting mysteriously close by for him just before he got sick.

Gasping for breath, he stood up slowly and Palpatine steadied him, which he was grateful for. He felt such mixed and confusing emotions looking at his old friend's face. Was the Chancellor from Naboo his friend or his enemy? There was no telling with him anymore, just as there was no telling with so many others he and Padmé had known before the war had gotten so enormous. He certainly no longer felt threatened by the man. But something about the Sith book still made him wary. He'd been through betrayals before—many of them.

"Listen, my boy," Palpatine said slowly, honestly. Anakin leaned back against the pallet to listen. "The war has changed so much. It has changed people so much—you and I included, you know that. I am not looking into—" he looked uncomfortable for a moment; so much that Anakin couldn't help but believe him. "—evil. I am looking into—alternative ideas—that can help shed some light on the spirituality of living beings.

"You are the one who got me interested, you know. Perhaps, being a Jedi, you've never looked into the _Sith_ teaching, but as a scholar I cannot help but feel that if we are to accurately determine our beliefs on the Ultimate Power, ourselves, our loved ones, and others as well, then we must examine every side of the equation. Just because the Jedi have said one thing to be evil does not necessarily make it so. Do you understand?"

Anakin nodded slowly. At least the Chancellor was trying to explain himself slowly, instead of at the breakneck pace he'd tried to keep up with yesterday.

A sad look crossed Palpatine's eyes as he finished his explanation. "I was once well-known as a proponent of the Jedi," he remembered. "Now they mistrust me enough that I fear they will use your position as my representative to ask you to spy on me. And who can blame them?" he shook his head. "I trust them no more than they do me!" His gaze as he looked up at Anakin was penetrating. "How can I trust an organization that claims to be dedicated to my own religion, yet confuses millions by changing its basic document countless times?"

Anakin felt the same grief. He knew there was much that the public now missed out on and was confused by. He was one of those millions, when he was younger and now still, even after all his studies on the Jedi Code.

"I know you may still be abhorrent of this," the Chancellor smiled slightly, taking a book from his robe, "but as a fellow scholar—don't smile like that, Anakin, it's true!—won't you take another look at the Sith writings, if only to tell me what you think. It will be worth your time, I promise."

Warily, Anakin took the book he'd found in Palpatine's desk that night and reluctantly thrust it into the pocket of his robe, which he'd found hanging on a rail a few steps away. He swung the material over his shoulders, feeling the warmth of it soothe his aching muscles just a little.  
"You believe in this stuff?" he asked the Chancellor, feeling the outline of the book from inside the pocket.

Palpatine raised his eyes and met Anakin's with narrowed eyes. "Every word of it. With a fervor."

Anakin swallowed hard, but they'd discussed this long enough. He didn't want to lose another friend. "Thank you, Chancellor," he extended his hand to the older man, who shook it firmly and led him toward the exit. He started to leave, stepping out into the hallway of this familiar Senatorial building.

"Bring them back to me, my boy."

He turned, bewildered. "Bring who back to you?"

"The Jedi," the Chancellor stated, as if it had been obvious. "If they do not respect your leadership enough to follow you, then they should!"

When Anakin hesitated, he spoke up again.

"Bring them back to me, and we will continue with this," he pulled out the gold-colored bottle again and looked it over. Noticing Anakin's expression, he shrugged. "At any rate, you now know the deal isn't too good to be true!"

Anakin grinned in spite of himself. His head still hurt and he still felt weak, but the antidote had done some good. He could already tell. "No, it really is," he replied.

The Chancellor smiled back. "Your life is all about your family, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes."

"That's wonderful, Anakin. Something I respect very much. I know you would give anything to be there when your child is born, and you will be."

Anakin nodded in reply, and turned, heading for the turbolift. The Chancellor shut the door behind him, probably intending to spend some more time in scientific study that day.

What a day it had been for Anakin already! Inside the lift, he leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath. It was actually something of a relief to be alone, even if the book in his pocket seemed to be heavy and speak of a dark something he couldn't help but sense through the Force.

Suddenly, he felt a sense of something else, something completely unrelated to the events of the day. A pleading, sobbing voice inside his head, calling his name, begging for help, for him to come. Puzzled and concerned, he honed in on the sense and let it direct him to a name, a location. He gasped as the doors slid open in front of him and the presence came into recognition in his mind.

_Ahsoka! _


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi guys! This chapter is short but the next one will be VERY long, and feature lots of Obi-Wan and Ahsoka! Lots more Obi-Wan after that, 'till the end of the story. My very reasonable goal for myself is to finish by the end of the year. I've also decided to start replying to reviews because you guys are so awesome! So…if you reviewed on my last chapter, look down at the bottom of the page!**

Chapter 10

Anakin pelted down the corridors of the Jedi Temple, looking for one man in particular. Being inside the Temple with a book of Sith writing burrowing a hole in his pocket made him a little nervous, but he was a soldier, and had carried life-threatening secret weapons through enemy territory before—what was so dangerous about this?

The sense he was getting of Ahsoka needing his help wasn't nearly strong enough for him to pinpoint her location—like it or not, his Force abilities were beginning to wane as the poison continued to work its way through his system.

In the hall, he passed a group of older younglings, in their early teens. "Have any of you seen Master Windu?" he demanded of them, rearing to a halt.

"No, we haven't seen him," a boy with orange skin—like Ahsoka's—replied, eyes wide as he looked over the bedraggled Jedi.

"Right," Anakin panted, sprinting past them again. Turning the corner, he crashed into someone familiar—it was Obi-Wan.

"Anakin, where have you been this side of the galaxy?!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, rubbing his nose from bump it'd received. "We've been trying to contact you for two days; there's been an emergency!"

"There's been more than one of those, thanks, Obi-Wan," Anakin spat, grabbing the wall to keep himself from toppling over. "Where's Master Windu?"

"In the medical bay a floor above us," his old Master replied, shaking his head as Anakin ran past him toward the lift. "He'll brief you about what we need you for!" he shouted after him. "Wait—Anakin!"

Upstairs, Anakin did indeed find Master Windu, talking with Yoda in an urgent tone as the two Masters worked their way through a holopad laid flat on the waiting room table.

"Master Windu," Anakin shouted breathlessly, collapsing in the chair beside him and ignoring Yoda's disgruntled look at being interrupted, "Do you know if Ahsoka's been here? Or anywhere? Any contact at all from her?"

Mace lifted his eyebrows in surprise to see him, and at his question. "Not that I know of, Skywalker. Why would your former Padawan be here?"

Anakin shifted uncomfortably. "Master, can I talk to you alone for a minute?"

Going aside, as Yoda and Mace made several faces at each other that probably indicated something Mace was about to say to him, Anakin decided he was going to be honest with Windu. He didn't really have any other choice. "Ahsoka's in trouble," he told the Jedi Master. "She's in grave danger. I can sense it, but I can't sense her location. I don't think she's too far away, but—honestly, Master, my abilities have been decreasing. I don't know how to find her."

Windu grimaced, as if he had bad news to tell. "Listen, Skywalker, I know that's important to you—it _is_ important for all of us—but we're currently facing a crisis ourselves. And—I'm sorry to say this, Skywalker, but even given what you're going through right now, we need your help."

Anakin raised an eyebrow, concerned. "What with?"

"You know that there was supposed to be a mission yesterday to hijack the suspect Separatist base on Machibo," Mace explained. "I managed to arrange for General Krell to take the mission with Master Kenobi instead of you, since you wouldn't answer your com and I knew for a fact you weren't well enough to take on a mission this intense. The problem is that General Krell was attacked and seriously wounded last night while returning to the Temple with his clone battalion," he gestured toward the door, behind which Anakin knew General Krell was inside one of the recovery rooms.

"One of his clones also went completely missing," Mace added. "No one knows exactly why or how or who did it, and he hasn't been conscious long enough yet to tell us. None of his clones seem to know what happened, either, and there's no security footage. The bigger problem is that we have to get into that Machibo base as soon as possible, and there's no one available to accompany Master Kenobi."

"I can't leave right now for Machibo!" Anakin exclaimed incredulously. "I have to find Ahsoka! And—Master, there's something—strange—going on with Chancellor Palpatine, too. He just confided in me several odd secrets that really need to be looked into."

"Not right now," Mace replied calmly. "We've agreed to let Kenobi take a scout crew ahead of time to scope out the base and prepare for attack. Your 501'st legion isn't even available at the moment, so we were planning to let you take Krell's legion, but they're in a terrible condition. Krell has been driving them hard, as you've seen him do before," there was a slight bitterness to his tone that Anakin couldn't recall having heard before. Windu had always been calm and emotionless as he discussed war procedures, especially when referring to clones. "Several of them are wounded, and they're all exhausted and simply uninspired to fight."

Anakin listened closely, not surprised that Krell's clones were in such a condition but still disappointed. And he still didn't want to do this. "So what am I supposed to do?" he shrugged, frowning.

"Get them ready to fight," Mace replied, with a grim look. "In less than thirty hours. We'll keep an eye on the Chancellor while you're gone and look into the issues when you get back."

Anakin held back a coarse laugh. "Thirty hours? To repair _Krell's_ legion? To get them healed and rested and trained and dispatched; thirty hours?"

"All those things, in addition to finding and rescuing your former Padawan, if I'm hearing your request correctly," Mace conceded.

"You bet you were." He was starting to get a sinking feeling, however, that they were going to run out of time for all this.

"So do you agree to train the clones and take them to Machibo, if I help you locate and assist Miss Tano at dark tonight?" Mace wagered.

Anakin almost smiled. Mace was never one to wager. He was his commanding officer, in a way—he always gave the orders. And here he was, treating him like an equal. "Agreed." he shook the Master's hand firmly. He didn't like waiting 'till dark to look for Ahsoka. He swore he could still hear her screaming in his head, calling for him to come after her, but he knew as well as Windu did that Machibo could mean life or death for everyone on Coruscant.

Priorities were hard to set, but very necessary.

"May the Force be with you, Skywalker."

"Thank you, Master."

**Replies to Awesome People: **

**Scottusa1: Yeah, Anakin's in trouble. Big big big trouble. It's weird because before, Anakin and Ahsoka were always able to help each other out, but now they're both in a crisis! **

**ErinKenobi2893: I love your reviews so much :D And I totally agree. Any ideas for what I should do to Palpatine at the end?**

** .5851: Yeah, but what kind of help, hmm? (;**


	11. Chapter 11

**Wonderful, slightly longer new chapter and lots more about to come out! **

**Okay, so—I lied! Sorry, I thought we'd get to Ahsoka, but we didn't. And ErinKenobi2893—I'm so sorry. You leave me such an amazing review and look what I did. Just look below. And believe it or not, it gets worse. Since Obi-Wan/Anakin feud is basically what is driving this story, I couldn't get rid of it even if I tried! I promise they will never actually hate each other like in the movie, though. They'll make up, eventually…**

**Look below for replies to all the fantastic reviews! And keep leaving them, cuz they really do help my writing! Thanks readers!**

Chapter 11

A line of emotionless, battle-scarred faces marched out and stood in formation in front of Anakin, saluting in unison and standing at attention.

The Jedi ran his gaze along the line, looking closely at each face before saying anything. At first glance, the clone legion appeared to be like any other. Their strict discipline ensured that their formations revealed no signs of weakness, and Anakin was certain they would follow any order put to them.

A closer look, however, revealed appalling details about Krell's soldiers. A darkened face showed grief that had been hidden away permanently. Untreated wounds to another face were swollen and harsh-looking, distorting his expression. One soldier's shoulder was crooked, as if it had been injured, recently enough to avoid being checked up on the medical examinations. Another appeared to be on the verge of passing out where he stood, for no reason that could be certified by looking at him.

Listlessness appeared on nearly all of them. There was no spirit in these men. They were lost. Anakin had felt that way before, but he wasn't sure how to help them.

Pain in the troop's eyes echoed mistrust and betrayal of the General they were forced to obey unquestioningly, even if against their morals or compassion would have led them to do otherwise. It echoed Anakin's own. He had followed many a leader into a battle that should never have been fought. He'd killed people who had turned out to be innocent while under the command of another. It was part of being a soldier.

But Anakin had not been bred and cultured to follow orders—he'd always been the rebel. However, now was not the time to teach _that_ to the clones—now was the time to earn their trust. Trust that he knew would be difficult to obtain. And could not be rushed. And he had thirty hours.

"Evening, gentlemen," he announced at last. "I'm General Skywalker."

He didn't know what to say next. He needed something; something that would get them to _think_. So far, the clones had barely acknowledged him, and if they had it was only with fear and disgust.

"_What do they need to hear?" _he wondered, more and more worried about this assignment. He had to say something. So he opened his mouth and prayed it would be the right thing, pacing up and down the line of soldiers as he spoke.

"Pull off your gloves. Look down at your hands," he ordered. "All of you."

The clones looked bewildered for a moment, and then looked down at their hands.

"Now look at one of your brother's hands, one of them who's sitting next to you. If someone just looked at your hands, they might not tell any two of you apart. But when you look closely, comparing with each other, you see that each of your hands is shaped completely different."

The clones looked up in astonishment. Anakin gave them a wobbly smile. They had never looked closely at their own hands before.

"Now look even closer," he ordered, his eyes ablaze. "See the lines on your hands, the creases, and grooves. We all have them," he held out his own flesh hand, so they could see, "but each of you has a distinct pattern that's different from any being in the universe. It doesn't stop with the fingerprints. Your whole hand is covered in a totally unique design."

He stooped down just enough to look each one of them directly in the eye, one by one, walking down the line. "No one of you," he said confidently, "has a pattern that looks anything like someone else's, whether they're your brother or a Jedi or some person out on the street. And beyond even what you can see, there are microscopic, intricate patterns in your skin that make you even more unique than you or I could ever imagine."

The clones examined their own hands like little children who had never done it before. Anakin pressed his lips together and stood back, watching them with his arms folded across his chest.

"You are dismissed," he told them, although he doubted all of them actually heard. His voice had grown shaky and his head spun. "Go think about that—for awhile. Get some rest. When you're done, report to the meds."

Completely opposed to their simultaneous, monotonous responses from earlier, each of the clones responded with a distant, "yes, sir… " here and there, as they thought of it, continuing to stare at their hands as they left, one by one.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan appeared in the hangar and walked over to him, watching the strangely-behaving clones in bewilderment. "What are they doing?" he exclaimed, confused.

Anakin frowned and cleared his throat, not wanting to explain. He'd been under the impression his former Master had already left for Machibo. "It's called self-examination, Master," he replied curtly. "You've taught me about that many times."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "I don't think what they're doing is typically what that word is used for. I suppose—if you meant it _literally_… "

"I gave them a lesson—my mother taught me," Anakin informed him. He was going to say more, but he stopped. He just wanted to get away, get away from Obi-Wan and his optimistic, aggravating self.

Obi-Wan watched him closely, obviously trying to hide his surprise at the fact that his former apprentice had actually spoken to him. "You haven't talked about your mother since you were nineteen," he remarked.

Anakin's expression darkened. "You're keeping track?" he snapped.

Obi-Wan huffed. "No! I'm only making a general observation. Can I do that?"

"Who would stop you," Anakin muttered, rubbing his temples and beginning to edge away.

"I was going to compliment you on something, but you probably wouldn't care what I had to say."

Anakin stopped midstride. His face wrinkled up in confusion. "About my mother?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan waited a moment, but Anakin was silent, so he continued. "You—ah, used to be rather dependent on her memory…" already, he was feeling painfully awkward, but he ploughed through. "It often distracted you. I know that, knowing her as well as you did before you joined the Jedi, it must have been difficult for you to let go of your attachment."

Anakin's face changed into some unreadable expression.

"But you have apparently reached the place of being able to use her memories as a guide, rather than being swayed by them. That is a great achievement, Ana—"

He felt a crack as Anakin whirled around, nearly knocking him down with a punch to the jaw. Obi-Wan stumbled back and stared in shock for a moment, rubbing the bruised area almost mechanically. The young man in front of him slowly turned around and left, leaving a glaring, frightful presence behind.

"Anakin?" he finally managed to yell, but his old Padawan didn't turn around.

Furious, but unsure of what to do, Obi-Wan stood rooted in place for several more moments. Anakin left via the turbolift. "_Anakin!_"

"Good for him," Mace Windu said flatly, without turning around.

"Ahm, I beg your pardon? What did I do wrong?" Obi-Wan exclaimed defensively, taken aback.

Mace faced him, his face a deep puzzle, more complicated than it was normally, letting out a small sigh. He looked burdened, more than Obi-Wan had ever seen him.

Mace started to say something in reply, but stopped. "Maybe you'd better talk with Master Yoda about this when you return," he said finally.

Obi-Wan raised a concerned eyebrow. All the Jedi were acting strangely, then. It wasn't just Anakin. Although—maybe it was just the way he interpreted it.

He bowed slightly and turned to leave. "Thank you anyway," he muttered.

**Replies to Reviewers: **

** .5851—Yep (: More on that next chapter, coming out tomorrow probably. And Ahsoka may or may not be found in chapter 13…**

**scottusa1—Well, they're not really trading. Anakin, as usual, is trying to do it all. *smirk* how d'ya like his unconventional troop-training methods?**

**Son of Whitebeard—lol now there's an idea! Can't confirm or deny that possibility right now, though! **

**ErinKenobi2893—Krell totally did have it coming. It was years ago when I started this story and I really, really just wanted to give him a good knock on the head, so hey! I did! And OF COURSE Obi-Wan would solve everything in a few minutes so then we wouldn't have a story *grin grin* sorry! Heheheh no those are very helpful Palpy suggestions. I might use the Hoth one. Very ironic. Yes, I need some heroic action from one or both of the ladies. I think I have it figured out but it's still a little hazy 'cause I want some real stuff from Padmé before the story is over. And—SPOILER ALERT: Obi-Wan will duel Sidious. Because that's just too awesome to resist! **


	12. Chapter 12

**Question of the Day: Which baddie should Padmé and the handmaidens fight off by themselves to save the kids? Dooku or Grievous? **

**Chapter 13 will have Ahsoka and will hopefully come out over the weekend. I will reply to reviews for Chapters 11 and 12 then. In the meantime, have a lovely read! **

Chapter 12

"Come on, baby, pick up," Anakin muttered under his breath, waiting for Padmé's voice to come through as he held his com in one hand. Mace was supposed to meet him at dark but while the clones slept there was nothing more he could do to help them.

"Anakin?" her pretty voice came floating over the usually crackly-sounding comlink.

"Hi, Padmé," he answered quietly. There were so many things he had to tell her in a few minutes, but he didn't exactly know where to start.

"Where have you been? You left so early this morning I didn't get to ask!"

"Actually I left in the middle of the night. It's been a—an exhausting eighteen hours," he sighed. "I've been spying on the Chancellor."

"Spying on the Chancellor?" she repeated, her voice distracted but unreadable. "Oh! Anakin, have you seen Ahsoka? Derolf's at our apartment and she's been nowhere to be found!"

"Haven't seen her," he replied tightly, growing more worried about his Padawan as each minute passed. He leaned against the wall behind him, glancing around to look for Windu but still seeing no sign of him. "She's in trouble, I know that much. I'm about to go look for her. Master Windu's coming with me. It's good that the kid's safe, I suppose."

"Mmm," Padmé agreed absentmindedly. Like him, she was trying to fit too much information into far too short of a call. "Yeah, we've got him. Yané's in love with him already. What's this about the Chancellor? Ani, I don't trust him either! You should have seen the look he gave me when he talked into my speaking time this morning!"

"It's confusing, Padmé! I don't know what to think," he replied, frustrated with himself. "Here I thought he was the good guy for helping me out. You know he's always been a faithful friend to us."

"But he knows so much more than he should," Padmé echoed his thoughts.

"I know. And—" he rubbed his eyes, "I had this dream, Padmé."

When she was quiet, he kept going. "It wasn't a normal dream. It was like those I used to have about—my mother."

"Another? And what happened?" he could tell Padmé was fighting to keep her voice steady with its usual, comforting calm.

"We both died in my dream," he said quietly. "And Palpatine—Palpatine was the one behind—I dunno, the darkness. Maybe something—the war, I don't know what it meant. And he took our child, Padmé—it was horrible!" he felt his voice crack on the last word.

"We'll figure out what it means," Padmé said at last, after a long silence between the two of them. "Together. We'll figure it out."

Anakin shook his head. "Yeah. We talked about my work on the Jedi Code…he's apparently done a lot of similar research. But he's looking into other things—alternatives, he calls them. I don't—I don't know what I believe any more, Padmé. The Chancellor seems so confident in his beliefs. But I can't seem to figure out which side he's on!"

"Everyone has their own opinion on the truth," Padmé sympathized.

He laughed shortly. "So what _do_ we believe?!" He was so frustrated with the swirling vortex of opinions and ideas this war had brought to the table. Sick of talking about it. Unable to lend any one scheme of thought his full confidence and sway.

"We believe in the Jedi Code," Padmé reminded him gently. "The old version, not the modern one with its botched translations and additives and the personal opinions of every Grand Master from the last few millennia!" she let out a breath after the long sentence. Anakin smiled. She was good at making speeches. "The version you compiled—doesn't it just ring true in a way nothing else can?" she continued. "Even when we first read it, and didn't even agree with everything it said."

"Yeah," Anakin replied, remembering as well. He subconsciously reached down to finger the edge of the book in his pocket, feeling more and more uncomfortable with leaving it there.

He needed to get out his compilation of the Old Jedi Code and compare it to the Sith writings, and figure out once and for all what he _did_ believe. It was only going to keep nagging at him until he did.

But there was always something he had to do first. And right now, it was finding Ahsoka.

"Right. Thanks—I have to go now. Be thinking about going _back_," he added shortly, as Master Windu appeared from around the corner and he purposely avoided saying Padmé's name as the one he was conversing with. It had become a habit in the course of the three years they'd hidden their marriage.

"I hear you and your Master are not entirely getting along?" Windu questioned, looking out the window with determination rather than at Anakin.

He shut off his comlink. "We get along," he protested weakly, knowing that if Mace knew about their feud it wouldn't be long before they were forced to sift it through to the bottom.

"There is no time to pursue the matter now," the Jedi Master continued, much to his relief. "Why don't you extend the Force to your Padawan? I'll assist you in pinpointing her location."


End file.
